


big dumb energy

by Ineffablemurderhusbands



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff and Humor, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, big dumb energy, spay your cats kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 22:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20021980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineffablemurderhusbands/pseuds/Ineffablemurderhusbands
Summary: Some cats fighting in his roof don't let Aziraphale sleep so he decided to spray them with water hoping they would go away.He ends up spraying Crowley instead.





	big dumb energy

**Author's Note:**

> Look, this is a prompt that almost happened to me. I had to spray some cats today with water but the water pressure was too high so my hose went crazy and sprayed water out of my house in the street. Thankfully, nobody was passing through but that got me thinking. I was going to write this for the Doctor Who fandom because The Thirteenth Doctor definitely has big dumb energy but River is too smart for this prompt. So I thought "Which OTP has big dumb energy on both sides and would definetely be dumb enough for this prompt?" The answer was of course the ineffable husbands, since they are the dumbest and I love them very much. But I never wrote these two before so, take this with a grain of salt I guess. Also this in unbetaed. 
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments if you like this. Seriously, it warms my whole soul.

It hadn’t been Aziraphale’s idea to move to the countryside. After his bookshop had burned down, Anathema had convinced him that it would be a good idea to take a little time to regroup and cure himself from the trauma of having all his books and possessions scorched by the fire. He had begrudgingly agreed, at least until his shop was up and running again. So that was the reason why he was currently living in a cottage down the road to Anathema and Newton’s. 

Living in the countryside had its perks, Aziraphale couldn’t deny that. For once, he had neighbors and they enjoyed talking to him as he took his morning strolls. He enjoyed the fact that the sky was clearer there so he could actually look at the stars at night and not be bothered by the pollution. He also liked the quiet and how he could read and read without being bothered by a soul. 

The only thing he absolutely dreaded was going to sleep. Every night, like clockwork, some feral cats started fighting on top of his roof at exactly 3:33 AM and he always woke up with a start. They only stopped fighting at exactly 4 AM and by then Aziraphale had already lost his sleep and couldn’t go back to it. If he was superstitious he would say that it was the musings of the “Devil’s hour” but he wasn’t, so Anathema could say that for the both of them. It was exactly what she told him when he talked to her about the problem and Aziraphale caught himself just in time before he rolled his eyes at her. 

“It’s not the Devil’s hour, it’s the cat’s heat hour!” He told her and then munched on the piece of apple pie she had baked. 

“Just because you don’t believe it, doesn’t mean it’s not true.” She said with a little pout. “Anyways, why haven’t you sprayed them with water?”

“I couldn’t!” He gasped. “They could be hurt.” 

“It’s just water, Aziraphale.” Anathema rolled her eyes at him. “They’ll go away if you only hint at spraying them.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked. 

“I am.” She nodded then huffed. “That’s what we get when people don’t spay their animals, honestly this is what’s really hurting them.” 

Aziraphale did the logical thing and left her house before she went on a whole monologue about the benefits of spaying your pets. 

That night Aziraphale did his whole night routine and put on his confortable cream colored flannel pajamas before saying his prayers and going to sleep, not giving the cat situation another thought until he woke up at exactly 3:33 AM with angry meows and hisses above him. 

“Oh God!” He groaned as he rolled on the bed and tucked his head beneath his pillow, trying to muff the sound without success. “This must be the devil’s work.” Aziraphale mumbled. “It’s the only reason for my suffering.” 

He tried to stay in bed and wait for them to spot but Aziraphale was on the edge of his sanity already, not being able to sleep well for two weeks now, so with a grumble he got out of bed, put on his slippers and his robe and stumbled outside, feeling incredibly bleary eyed, to look where his hose stood. 

“I’m finishing this today!” He said in a determined tone of voice as he opened the hose on its maximum capacity, not really checking to see where the end of his hose actually was. 

Well, you see, Mister Anthony J. Crowley had been just walking home from a crazy night out where he had drank a little too much and decided not to drive home since he was completely smashed. Like a responsible adult, for once in his life, he decided to take the bus home and walk the rest of the way to his nephew’s house. It was technically his adoptive sister and her husband’s house but Adam was the only one who truly mattered there, so for Crowley it was Adam’s house. Crowley had just been turning the corner in front of a cream colored chateau when he had been splayed in the face with the most gelid and powerful blast of water he had ever seen. The force of the blast send his glasses flying to the middle of the street and pushed him to the ground, causing him to bump his bony little arse with all force on the cobbled pavement. “WHAT THE HELL!” He screeched as he finally regained his senses from the surprise and the fall. 

Aziraphale watched the whole scene unfold in front of him with an open mouth and unable to move himself, as the hose danced crazily in the air from the water pressure. He only fully woke up when the assaulted man screamed and the blonde jumped in the air and he frantically ran to turn down the water. “Oh, Heavens!” He exclaimed as he managed to close the water and the hose fell limp to the ground. Aziraphale ran towards where the stranger laid, still on the ground and sputtering water from his mouth, completely soaked. “Are you ok? I’m so so sorry, it wasn’t my intention to spray you!” Aziraphale said, nervously and tripping over his words.” 

Crowley huffed, pushed his soaked red hair away from his face and looked up, ready to curse at the stranger with all the power of his sailor mouth but stopped in his tracks, with his mouth open as he stared at the man. If he hadn’t already been completely sobered by the blast of cold water to his face, he would be now as he stared at the beauty above him. The man had the most adorable concerned face, with beautiful blue eyes, pink pouty lips and soft chubby cheeks. His hair was blonde, almost white, and curly and he was sporting the cutest bedhead Crowley had ever seen. He also had dark circles under his eyes and looked tired as hell. The man was wearing the most atrocious looking cream robe, slippers and flannel pajamas and he looked soft all over. Crowley had the sudden urge to hug him to see if his pudgy soft middle was as cuddly as it looked. “It’s ok, angel.” He said in the softest voice he could muster. Crowley wasn’t even aware that he could sound this soft. “You probably ridded me of a nasty hangover in the morning.” He smirked as the man blushed at the endearment term. Crowley wasn’t one for pet names, but the man did look like an angel. 

The man Aziraphale had sprayed instead of the feral cats was looking up at him and Aziraphale couldn’t help but stare at those pretty and exotic amber eyes that seemed to glint in the moonlight. The man was wearing all black clothes, with tight skinny jeans, a black jacket and a black shirt that was completely soaked and clinging to his slim body. Aziraphale offered his hand and the man took it. The blonde shivered at the contact but it wasn’t because the man’s hand was freezing. He hauled the man to his feet and realized he was taller than him but much slimmer. “Oh, you’re freezing!” He exclaimed, noticing that the man was shivering and trembling. “I’m so sorry! Please let me warm you up inside.” Crowley’s mind rushed with improper thoughts of how the man could “warm him up inside” and he was almost disappointed when the man continued. “I have a dryer, some spare blankets and can make you some hot cocoa.” It sounded nice anyways so Crowley accepted it. 

“I’m just need to grab my glasses and…” As soon as he turned around to grab his glasses from the middle of the street a red motorcycle rushed through and completely destroyed his glasses. “Never mind!” He said with a wince. 

“I’m so sorry!” The man said again. “I’ll buy you new ones!” 

Crowley made a dismissive hand gesture, trying to appease the frantic man. “Oh, don’t bother. I have innumerous pairs of glasses just like that one.” He did not say that those particular ones where his favorites, but what the precious angel didn’t know it wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Are you sure?” The man asked, as he fidgeted nervously with the sash of his robe. 

“I am.” Crowley said with a little smile. “Now, lead the way!” He said and the man led him to his house. “What were you doing anyway?” He asked, just before they passed through the threshold. The man turned around to look at him with the hint of a blush on his pale cheeks. 

“Some cats were fighting and were not letting me sleep, so I had to take some drastic measures.” With that he entered the house and Crowley followed him with a snort, closing the door behind them. The house looked just as soft and confortable as the man himself looked. The man in question was rushing from side to side, trying to pick up blankets and clothes from his our dresser. “Please take off your clothes.” He said as he placed some of his clothes on Crowley’s hands and placed the blanket on the couch. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.” With a little unsure smile, he went away to the kitchen but Crowley could still see his head and shoulders poking over as he opened cabinets and turned on the stove. 

“Right sentence, wrong situation.” Crowley mumbled under his breath as he started to shed his blazer and took off his soaked shirt. 

“Did you say anything, dear?” Aziraphale asked, still with his back to Crowley and the redhead felt his heart skip a beat at the endearment. He knew it didn’t meant anything, they were from the United Kingdom after all so it was common to address completely strangers with endearments, but his heart couldn’t be controlled. 

“I just asked for your name.” He lied and Aziraphale turned around to stare at him, blushing as he looked at the half naked stranger in his living room. His eyes couldn’t help but follow the patch of his, surprising smatter of chest hair, his lean frame, slim hips and his long long legs. The contrast of the dark, low rising and tight jeans against his pointy hipbones was enough to make a sane man mad, and Aziraphale wasn’t sure he considered himself as a sane person. He gulped dry at the vision and when he looked up, he found that the man was smirking at him, having caught him staring. Aziraphale blushed at the gaze and tried to remember what the man had said. “I’m Aziraphale.” He finally said. The stranger nodded. “Aren’t you going to say that my name is odd?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Why would I?” The man said as he unbuckled his belt and took it off. Aziraphale made himself look into the man’s eyes instead of trailing the movements of his dexterous hands. 

“Everyone does.” He shrugged. 

“I’m not everyone.” He looked up at Aziraphale and winked before very deliberately undoing his pants. Aziraphale blushed and turned around back at the stove, causing Crowley to smirk. “Besides, my name is not common either I suppose.” He said, taking off his trousers and shoes. 

“Oh?” Aziraphale asked, not daring to turn around to look at him. 

“My name is Crowley.” He said. Crowley stood there in his slightly damp pants for a minute before picking up the clothes Aziraphale had chosen for him. 

“That is an odd name.” Aziraphale said with an acknowledgement hum. 

“You don’t like it?” Crowley could feel himself pout at the thought. “My full name is Anthony J Crowley if that makes you feel better.” 

“I like Crowley.” Aziraphale looked over his shoulder with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes and Crowley felt his heart melt. “It has character.” He turned around and Crowley felt like he could breathe again. Crowley put on the trousers and shirt that Aziraphale had chosen for him. It was a simple cream sweatshirt and cotton trousers but it smelled just like Aziraphale. Like old books and English tea. The shirt and trousers were both large on him and short, engulfing his frame but also stopping in his ankles and wrists. Crowley felt ridiculous in it. He picked up his wet clothes and placed the white blanket around his shoulders. He already felt warmer but sometimes his body still shivered involuntarily. 

“What’s up with all the books?” Crowley asked directly behind Aziraphale, having noticing earlier that his house was full to the brink with books. Aziraphale jumped in surprise at having Crowley so near him but answered. 

“I have a bookshop in London.” He said.

“Here it’s a bit far from London to go to work every day.” He frowned as he watched Aziraphale turn off the stove and grab two mugs from his cabinet, putting the steaming hot cocoa inside the mugs. The air was filled with the scent of the hot beverage and Crowley sighed. Aziraphale turned around and offered him a black mug, taking his wet clothes from his hands. Crowley was surprised that he even owned a black mug since his whole aesthetic leaned toward light everything. 

“I used to live above my bookshop.” Aziraphale said as he disappeared through a corridor with Crowley’s clothes, most likely to place it in the dryer. “When my bookshop burned down I had to come live here until it’s renovated.” His voice sounded muffled but Crowley could still hear him fairly well. 

“I’m sorry.” Crowley said as Aziraphale came back and picked up his own mug –white with angel wings as the handle. 

“It’s okay.” Aziraphale said. “What were you doing in the street at three in the morning?” He took a sip from his mug and closed his eyes at the sweet taste. 

“Just coming back from a night out.” Crowley shrugged. “My nephew lives just down the street.” 

“Oh? What’s his name? Maybe I know him!” He said excitedly and Crowley smiled. 

“Adam.” 

“Oh, Adam!” He smiled and Crowley swore his eyes lighted up. “He’s a very nice boy.” 

Crowley’s heart filled with pride, as always, at the mention of his nephew’s good behavior but he only smirked. “He’s alright.” He said and took a sip of the cocoa, almost moaning at the taste. “Hell, angel, this tastes amazing!” 

Aziraphale preened at the praise and smiled widely. “Thank you.” Then he frowned. “I’m sorry that I dumped water on you again.”

“It’s fine, angel.” Crowley said. “If you hadn’t I would have never met you.” 

Aziraphale blushed and hid his face behind his mug, Crowley hid his delighted smile behind his. The cats never bothered Aziraphale’s sleep again.

**Author's Note:**

> i love my dumb idiots.


End file.
